


Speak easy to me

by The_time_it_takes



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bartender Andrew, Butcher Neil Josten, Kinda, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:11:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17018979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_time_it_takes/pseuds/The_time_it_takes
Summary: This is my Aftg winter exchange 2018 gift for @cosyblack on tumblr, If you don't like it I'd be happy to write you something else.





	Speak easy to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wematch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wematch/gifts).



> This is my Aftg winter exchange 2018 gift for @cosyblack on tumblr, If you don't like it I'd be happy to write you something else.

Soulmates are a tricky thing, soulmarks are even worse. A soulmark consists of two pictures, one for you and one for your supposed match. All the cliché movies have stereotypical love interests, flowers and chocolates to represent the women and books or cars to represent the manly men in the storylines. The two lovers meet, they instantly know that they're a match, they love such similar things, then at the end of the movie they finally confront each other about it and reveal their marks to each other at some grand party. And guess what they find out? They're a perfect match.  
In real life however, soulmarks are often overlooked in favor of finding those of higher social class. Some don’t even believe in soulmates; others are skeptical of the wild concept of destiny. Some think the marks are supposed to reflect your future personality or interests. Others say you're interested in those things because you dream of finding your soulmate. But the most commonly held belief is that the pictures on your wrist are important to your relationship with your soulmate.  
Last winter two souls found company in the other.

#-# 

Two months ago, Nathan Wesninski had died in a tragic “accident”, leading to his son, Nathaniel, taking over his mob ring in Chicago. The government was still holding strong to the prohibition laws, which created plenty of opportunities for Nathaniel to up his customer count. You see, one of his many sources of income came from secretly making and selling almost any type of alcohol possible. Speakeasies were the easiest way to sell; many private elites are willing to pay a pretty penny for the stuff.  
On one particularly unfortunate day, as he was leaving a meeting with one of those elites, the pigs found him. They were trying to catch him. He was trying his best to lead them on the wrong path, but his shoe prints in the snow made that difficult. Eventually, he made his way into the main city sectors, where all the snow had already been ruined by foot and car traffic.  
The young man slipped his way into a bookstore just off third street and dusted the fresh snowflakes off the front of his coat. He was almost immediately greeted by a man behind the counter, said man was tall and lanky, his skin had a natural tan. When he spoke, his voice sounded as bubbly as champagne.

“Hello sir, my name is Nicky, how can I help you today?” The man- Nicky, apparently- asked.  
“I'm just looking,” Nathaniel put on his best business smile and turned in the direction of a bookshelf.  
“Alright let me know if you need something, just one quick question first, what's your favorite beer?”  
“Oh, I don't drink alcohol.” Nathaniel’s go-to answer used to be whiskey, as that was half the soulmark he was born with. But since prohibition was put in place, he mostly replied with that.  
“Well I might have a section just for you.” Nicky winked and motioned for the redhead to follow him to the back of the store. The latter shrugged, he figured it was probably better to hide in the back of the shop than be near the windows since he's being followed.

“It's not very busy this time of day so it should be nice and relaxing for you.” The cheerier of the two pulled on a book near the top, much too high up for someone with Nathaniel's short stature to reach. The book pulled out at an angle and the bookshelf creaked as it swung open to reveal a spiraling staircase. This was when he realized he must have stumbled into a speakeasy and this would definitely be a good place to hide for a while.  
As Nathaniel descended down the stairs and into the basement of the building, Nicky closed the bookcase behind him and, presumably, went back to the front desk to monitor the store. The young crime boss looked around the converted basement, taking in the posh-looking black velvet walls and the inviting burgundy leather booths that were pressed up against the walls on all four sides. The concrete floor had been redone with a dark wood and covered with white fluffy rugs in most places. There was a circular bar in the middle of the room stocked full of liquors and ingredients for mixed drinks, the glasses hung from racks on the ceiling and the lights around the bar were cover in bottle green glass, (that contrasted nicely with the yellow light coming from the sparse lighting between the seating) that gave the area a hazy glow. The countertop of the bar was a deep cherry, so deep it looked brown from far away and the bar stools surrounding the structure were covered in a soft black leather that looked well loved. Next to the entrance was a list of rules- first and foremost, you are to talk quietly and shortly if you are to talk at all; second, no fighting or breaking anything, at any time; lastly, if cops come, quickly and quietly file out the emergency staircase.   
Nathaniel appreciated that the owners had considered the possibility of a police raid. Along the wall farthest from Nathaniel’s current position was a small neon sign that read ‘I drink therefore I am’ just over one of the booths, his lip twitched upward just a little at the sight of it. 

There were maybe 3 people scattered around the room, sipping on martinis and rum. One was reading a book, while the others were having a quiet conversation. Just behind the bar was a short blonde man with a disinterested face and seemed to be comfortable with his arms crossed over his chest. Nathaniel approached him, what the hell, he thought, might as well drink something.  
“I'll take a whiskey, Jack Daniels if you have it.” Wesninski spoke quietly.  
The man reached above him to grab a glass, “Name?” he asked as he pulled down a bottle of Jack from the shelf behind him.  
“Um.” Nathaniel didn't want him wrapped up in his life, he could have been a loyal follower of his father for all he knows so he said, “Neil, my name is Neil Josten.”  
The bartender hummed. “Are you going to tell me your name?” Neil raised an eyebrow.  
“I wasn’t planning on it, no.” He set the whiskey in front of Neil and leaned back against the counter behind the bar.  
“Well, I think you owe me your name now.” Neil rested his head on his hand.  
“Why, because I gave you a drink that you haven’t paid for yet?” At that moment another blonde man came up behind the bartender.  
“Hey Andrew, your shifts over, I can take over now.” the new bartender waved Andrew out of the bar.  
“I’ll be back around six,” Andrew told the new guy in a stern voice.  
After that, the new man turned to Neil, “Paid yet?”  
“Aaron,” Andrew turned back around sharply, “His drinks are on me, tonight”. Aaron rolled his eyes as if paying for a random person’s beverage was normal for Andrew, and for all Neil knew, it was.  
Aaron glanced at Andrew’s covered wrist and then at Neil’s, “Him?”  
“Shut up.” And with that Andrew walked up the stairs.   
Neil shrugged the strange exchange between siblings off and finished drinking his whiskey.  
“Another?” Aaron asked.  
“I’m good” Neil got up from his seat and moved toward the door.  
“If you know what’s good for you won’t come back.” Aaron muttered.  
“You don’t know what I am capable of.” Neil tossed over his shoulder.

#-#

Several weeks pasted. Neil always came in at the same time and ordered the same drink. Normally, Andrew had it waiting for him when he came in and never let him pay. Neil had resulted to hiding money around the bar when Andrew wasn’t looking so, he would find it later.   
Aaron was never around, but occasionally Neil would talk to the other patrons in the bar. There was a high-class blond trophy wife, named Allison, that always can in with her friend Renee, who- Neil had learned- played professional golf. There’s Matt and Dan; they played piano and danced during the rush hours; and Kevin, who handled the bar and paying off the right people to let the bar slide under the radar.   
About a month after Neil had started coming the bar, Andrew sat his drink in front of him and before he could give thanks, Andrew said, “A truth for a truth”.  
“What?” Neil cocked his head ever so slightly.  
“I ask you a question, you answer it honestly and I’ll do the same.”  
“Alright,” the blue-eyed boy nodded once, “who goes first?”  
“How did you get here?” Andrew asked abruptly.  
Neil figured that was all he should have expected from Andrew “Nicky let me in.”  
“No shit. How did you find this place?” His face was impassive as ever.  
“I was trying to get away from someone and stumbled into the shop. Nicky asked me what alcohol I drink, and I said I didn’t drink he led me here.”  
“Idiot, why are you drinking then?”  
“Isn’t it my turn?” Neil smirked, “We’re doing this question by question right?” Andrew sighed but nodded for him to continue. “How did you get into this business?”  
“I figured I was always meant to be on the wrong side of the law.” He shrugged.  
“What do you mean?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow at Neil’s follow up question. “Question by question” Andrew mocked his words from earlier.  
“Fine, be like that. Want me to answer your other question then?” Neil tilted his face and the light bounce off the edges of the scar tissue there.  
Andrew was silent. Neil took that as a yes. “I only drink one type of whiskey and never any other type of alcohol. It just so happens to be the alcohol you serve here.”  
“How long have you been doing this?” Neil ditched his last question, it wasn’t important, besides he wanted to know every bit of Andrew that he was willing to give.  
“Two years. Who were you running from?”

“The cops.” Neil could feel his father's smile spread over his face and decided he was done here, for now; he’d come again tomorrow, anyway. So, he downed the rest of his drink, picked himself up and walked out of the bar.  
Days passed, and they always played their game when they were alone. It always ended when Neil felt his father's smile on his face or when Andrew reached for the knives he kept in his armbands, Neil learned. He told Andrew about his dead mother and uncle in England, Andrew told him about Aaron’s dead mother and his own time in prison. They talked about Nicky, Kevin, and all the other regulars. Neil gave Andrew his original name and the tiny bartender sometimes called him Abram. On Wednesdays they would be surrounded by the others Neil had befriended, but every other day of the week, Josten would be across from Andrew as he worked. They would talk, just the two of them, sparing the occasional exchange with Renee when she came to get Allison's drink. Neil started looking forward to coming here. He made sure to keep his business going strong, in fact, he found out his people were the ones that supplied Andrew’s bar. He would always give the blond a discount on whiskey.   
Then one Tuesday afternoon, Renee suggested that Neil come visit during rush hour this Wednesday as Andrew was making her a drink. The crime lord was hesitant at first, but after a quick glance at Andrew’s passive face, he agreed to be there when Matt and Dan performed the next day.  
#-#

When the day came, Neil arrived around six, just an hour before Matt and Dan’s performance. The twins looked swamped at the bar and when Andrew saw Josten, he nodded his head in the direction of the free booth behind him, the one with the neon sign above it. Neil made his way over and sat down. Around ten minutes later, Andrew finally came and sat down across from him. He set down a tray with two glasses of whiskey on it. He picked one up and brought it to his mouth but didn’t drink any. He raised an eyebrow at the boy in front of him a few seconds later and Neil realized that Andrew wanted them to take the first sip together. Neil picked up his drink and they downed half of their glasses.  
“What took you so long?” Neil had a shy little smile on his face as he set his glass down on a coaster.  
“Ronald’s shift didn’t start until 6:30 today.” Andrew took another sip of his drink. Neil wounded if he always drinks after his shift or if it’s just been a long day.  
They talked for a little bit more but then Matt and Dan’s show started, and Andrews attention shifted to the door. Probably in order to see someone coming in before anyone else did. Neil’s attention, however, never wavered from the man across from him, although he took fleeting glances at the pair on stage, Andrew’s jaw and the way it twitched every so often was much more interesting than the music or the dance. He would have to apologize to them later. 

 

#-#  
The crowd was winding down, it was almost 12:30 a.m., Dan and Matt finished their set hours ago, and Neil had taken up conversation with Andrew again. Suddenly, Andrew stood up and ushered Aaron, who was behind the bar now toward where the emergency exit was. He then came back to the table and just as he grabbed Neil’s arm and started to pull him up, Neil heard it: the feet pounding above the bar. There were too many of them for it to just be customers. The police were here. Neil jumped up beside Andrew.   
“We have to get you out of here.” Neil whispered.   
“If I leave, they’ll just take Nicky or Aaron. I’m not going.”  
“Take them with you then.” Neil pulled Andrew toward the exit with the arm Andrew was holding.  
“Then one of the customers will get blamed, that’s bad for business.” Andrew still looked dead in the face, but his eyes held a certain level of worry, one that was highly unusual for Andrew.  
“Since when have you worried about business Andrew, fucking leave, you idiot.” Neil’s whisper was becoming more and more agitated, “I’ll stay here and deal with the cops, they are already on my ass for much worst things, I’ll take the fall, just get out, take everyone else with you.” Neil was no longer whispering. There was no more need to, the pigs had already found their way down to the bar. People were screaming the police had their guns in the air, a shot was fired.  
“Everybody, get down!” Aaron yelled, he was almost at the door to leave.  
“Go!” Neil shoved Andrew away and pulled out the gun he kept on him.  
“I better see you later. In person, not in the paper. You hear me?” Andrew growled out.  
“Make sure the others are safe.” He ordered Andrew, instead of answering. Neil couldn’t promise he’d get out of this; Andrews had his share of false promises, too; he turned away and walked behind the bar. He ducked down below the counter to avoid gunfire and saw a thin gun box, the key lying next to it. Neil opened it even though he already had a gun a bigger one was always appreciated. In the box was a tommy gun. The exact make and model as the one on his arm. Neil thought of the Jack Daniels Andrew always had in stock and the warning Aaron had given him the first day he came in here. Neil finally fit the puzzle pieces together. Why Andrew was so vague when answering Neil’s questions about his love life; why Andrew was adamant that Neil not pay for his drink; why everyone seemed so scared of Andrew when Neil had never feared him for a second. In the moments before he got back up with his new gun he wondered if Andrew knew. Andrew was his soulmate.  
Neil stood up and pulled the trigger on his gun. He did it so he could see Andrew again and talk about this with him. Andrew deserved to be happy with or without Neil, but if Neil was being honest with himself, he much rather it be the former. He had slowly grown to love Andrew without realizing it. Neil got hit in the shoulder by a bullet and had to duck down. He crawled across the floor and almost made it to the main entrance when another struck him in the leg. He got up and shot a couple rounds behind him as he made his way up the stairs. Neil finally got out of the building and limped his way a couple of blocks down. His warm blood was melting the snow wherever it dropped. He found a rotting side street where he could find a way out of his situation. As Neil sat there, ripping up his ruined coat to use as bandages, he tried to think of a   
place where he and Andrew could go to wait it out while this all blows over. He’s thinking New York, or maybe London. He decided he would let Andrew choose. 

#-#

Six days later Neil is knocking on a Hotel door. The cops still haven’t found him. Neil’s men had tracked Andrew to this room and now Neil was here to chat. When the door opened, Neil immediately demanded answers from the blond;  
“Did you know?” His voice was scratchy and desperate, a sound that required a verbal answer, but Andrew was never one to follow orders...or rules...or laws...or anything but his own will really so he simply nodded his head.  
“Why didn’t you tell me then?” Neil’s voice held no inflections  
“I didn’t want to force you into anything. Some people feel like once you meet your soulmate you have to be with them, I don’t think it matters. I liked you because you’re you, not because of some shit mark I was born with.”  
“Liked?” Neil’s voice was worried now, did Neil really fuck up that night, did Andrew hate him now? Was this Neil’s one shot at happiness with an amazing person like Andrew? And he blew it.  
“Like” Andrew corrected.

Neil let a breath of relief flood out of him.  
“How did you know the police were coming for use that night?” Josten had been contemplating how Andrew had seemed so on edge that night, almost like he knew they were coming.  
“I have a police radio at home, they said something about a raid that was going to happen, I thought it might be us.” Neil smiled at ‘us’ like the bar had somehow become their shared thing, not Andrew’s business that Neil frequented.  
“What do we do now?” The mafia leader leaned against the door frame leaning towards Andrew just a bit more than usual, but he didn’t back away.  
“Well we should probably hide for a while” Andrew snorted, it was so rare that he showed amusement outwardly and Neil didn’t mind being the cause of it.  
“And after that?” Blue eyes shone brightly.  
“Is this one of your rounds?” a smug tone escaped Andrew’s voice.  
“Yeah, sure asshole.” Neil’s eyes rolled.  
“I say we keep doing what we have been doing, see where it leads us.”  
“Alright, where do you want to go?” Neil replied stepping into the room at last. “I was thinking New York City”  
“New York then.” Andrew turned to walk onto the balcony, lighting his cigar. For the first time Neil could see the bottle of whiskey and tommy gun on the other’s wrist, he glanced down at his covered soulmark and smiled. Neil might be a mob boss who was always on the run, but he just might have found a home, just not a house.

#-#

Done.


End file.
